


loss of face

by Space_Samurai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Humor, Making Out, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25245727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Samurai/pseuds/Space_Samurai
Summary: There aren’t enough words to describe the mortification she feels as the door of the carriage gets yanked open by none other than Professor Snape.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 17
Kudos: 115





	loss of face

She refuses to let her night be ruined by Ron’s jealousy. The anger she feels towards him is quick to fade when Viktor finds her, drinks in hand and a worried expression in his face. Something kicks inside her and suddenly she’s resolved to have the best night of her life. She drinks the punch in one big gulp and pulls a confused, yet delighted Viktor back to the dance floor.

He is not much of a dancer, but neither is she. He had been perfect at the structured waltz, but as soon as the music turned livelier he grew just a bit stiffer, as if the looseness that this type dancing required was hard for him to produce. Still, he tried his best to mingle with the others and made sure she had a good time.

Silly as it may sound, a part of her hadn’t believed him when he first asked her to the ball. Why would _Viktor Krum_ invite her, Hermione Insufferable-Know-It-All Granger, to the Yule Ball?

They hadn’t shared more than a dozen words, all of them quiet greetings in the library. And before they had a proper conversation, Hermione had thought him inconsiderate. Why couldn’t he take with him the books he wanted to read, rather than occupy a seat in the table and have his whispering fan-club disturb the rest of the students? Not to mention that he barely even skimmed through the pages! Every time she’d steal a glance at him, he’d be at the same place.

She remembered clearly how he had awkwardly cleared his throat, making her look up from her book. She had raised an eyebrow at him, refusing to feel intimidated by his fame, size or unconventional handsomeness.

“Did you need something?” Most of the fan-club had been absent that day, probably trying to get dates for the ball themselves.

The courage he had managed to gather had wavered at her unimpressed tone, he’d tell her later. At the time, he had shifted on his feet nervously, his bushy eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I— Herm-own-ninny,” he had cleared his throat once more and stood straighter. “I vould like to take you to ze ball. It’d do me great honor. If you vanted to.”

She had blinked in disbelief, speechless for the first time in her life before accepting. From that day on, he’d come and sit by her side to watch her study, occasionally chiming in with a comment about the book she was reading. And once her own nervousness had faded, they began to have proper conversations: he was quite nice and not grumpy at all, she had been pleased to discover.

She twirled in his arms once more, easy laughter escaping her. Ron was the furthest thing from her mind and she felt strangely gleeful. If the way the Weasley twins were dancing with their respective partners was anything to go by, someone had probably spiced that punch with something. The twins themselves, likely. Though mostly, Hermione believed it was due to Krum.

As the crowd grew closer together, he began to tug open the neck of his red tunic. Hermione herself was feeling quite heated and her dress was made of lighter fabric than his clothes. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him outside the dancing crowd.

“Are you feeling hot?” Viktor nodded. “We should go out and take some air.” The ball was nowhere near ending, so they were in no hurry. “We can come back later.”

His cheeks grew inexplicably red. “If Hermy-owny vants.” He nodded and they went outside to the courtyard, where there were many empty carriages. They bumped into other pairs as they went out, but Hermione payed them no mind.

She hugged herself, the heat of the crowd had abandoned her quickly as a light breeze hit the courtyard. Viktor slowly wrapped an arm around her, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. There was quietness for the first time in the night and Hermione found that she had no desire to go back inside. She rested her head on his shoulder as his finger drew circles on her waist. She pretended not to notice how warm she grew on the spot he touched.

“I am not used to—ah,” he gestured back at the hall. “Danzing. It vas fun. I am glad you said yes.” Hermione’s heart fluttered. She forced a small laugh from her lips.

“Any girl would’ve accepted.” She was certain of it.

“Any girl viz not Hermiou-ny.” He insisted. She turned to look at him, ignoring the way anticipation twisted her stomach. In between her academic readings, she had consumed more than a few of her mother’s old romance books and if those were to be taken as a guide, this scene was building up to something interesting. And she wasn’t opposed to it.

“You got close. _Her-mi-o-ne_.” She repeated slowly. His face scrunched in concentration as he looked into her eyes.

“Her-my-o-nee.” He said slowly. A grin spread on her lips.

“That’s it!” He smiled back, clearly proud of himself. In that moment, he seemed even more handsome than Oliver Woods had been in his seventh year. Hermione had given more thought than she cared to admit to how the night might end. She knew what she wanted, but wasn’t sure of how to ask for it. She was pretty sure that Viktor liked her, but was wary because she was three years younger than him.

Before she could voice her wishes, she slipped on the snowy path and was saved from landing on her face by Viktor’s arm. She felt herself redden in embarrassment. What a klutz! Who wanted to snog a klutz?

Unaware of her internal turmoil and ever the gentleman, Viktor helped her to stand again. 

"Sorry," she looked down. "These aren't the shoes for this weather."

"Vould you like to go back?" She really didn't. 

"No, I just need to sit." Though the walls were as frozen as the ground and equally unappealing. Viktor opened the door of the carriage they were closest to, which was between two others and his them from the general view. Not that there was anyone outside besides them.

He lifted her as if weighed the same as a feather and sat her on the passenger's seat while he stood outside, merely a head below her. She was constantly amazed by how tall he was. 

Much like the tent she had shared with Ginny at the World Cup, the carriage was much bigger on the inside than it looked from outside. The cushions were comfortable and since the breeze didn't reach it, it was considerably less cold than the rest of the courtyard. 

"You'll freeze if you stay there." Hermione bit her lip and decided to be bold. "There's more than enough space for the two of us here." She moved and palmed the space right next to her, silently praying that Viktor would get the message without her needing to voice it.

Indeed, something sparked in his dark eyes. 

"Are you sure? Ve can go and dance more." He said, but his hand was on the door, ready to pull himself inside.

“Da,” she imitated his accent with a smile. Apparently that gave him the confidence he needed, for he jumped to her side and closed the door behind him. The darkness put her at ease, as she didn’t have to fully face him.

“Vik—“

“Hermy—“

They shared a small laugh.

Hermione’s hands tensed in her knees. She wondered if it was common for him to find himself in carriages with girls. The thought brought an unwarranted jealousy to her chest. It wasn’t as if Viktor was her boyfriend; they hadn’t even kissed.

Once again unable to perceive her internal turmoil, Viktor decided to take the initiative.

“Hermione?”

“Yes Viktor?”

“I… Vi vould to kiss you.” She could barely understand him through the blood pounding in her ears and his thick accent.

She gathered all the courage a Gryffindor could. “Well, I would like to kiss you too.” In the darkness, her hands looked for his cheeks and she found herself framing his face. The beginning of a beard scratched her palms as she felt his land on her waist. He had calloused hands and a strong grip, she had noticed that early during the waltz, but now she was hyperaware of it.

She shook her head internally, _stop thinking and do it!_

He was _much_ warmer than she. His lips hesitantly brushed over hers before she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him closer and then he leaned in eagerly, matching her enthusiasm.

Her worries melted as his lips moved against hers. She ran her hands through his short hair and muscular arms. One of his own moved slowly down her spine, making her shiver. He pressed himself against the door of the carriage until she was laying across him, his abdomen tensing under her legs. It occurred her that she wasn’t the only one trembling. Maybe he was nervous too, maybe this wasn’t a common occurrence for him.

His lips left hers to place a kiss on her cheek, then moved lower to her jaw and neck. A small gasp escaped her and she gripped his shoulders to maintain balance. The last thing she needed was to fall on top of him, as if she wasn’t crushing him beneath her already. He didn’t seem to mind though.

One of his knees slipped between hers and before she could produce any more embarrassing noises, someone casted a _lumos_ and light invaded the steamy carriage.

She looks up to the window to be met with a familiar face. There aren’t enough words to describe the mortification she feels as the door of the carriage gets yanked open by none other than Professor Snape.

Hermione doesn’t react, her body freezes on top of Viktor Krum and she gapes at her professor, stammering for an excuse.

His look of surprise at seeing her is gone quickly and Snape scowls. “Granger,” and she’s being grabbed by the shoulder and pulled off from Viktor and out of the carriage with a squeak. “Ten points from Gryffindor. And ten from—,“he does a double-take at Viktor, who had just stumbled out of the carriage. Snape grunted. “Karkaroff! You deal with this one.”

For a reason that went beyond her, the headmaster of Durmstrang was there too. She shared a brief look with Viktor, who had never looked so red and stiff, not to mention disheveled. She had really done a number on him. However, he didn’t look nearly as put off as his headmaster.

“Viktor!” What followed was in Bulgarian and spoken so fast that Hermione couldn’t follow it. Snape looked unimpressed and as if he would’ve preferred to be anywhere but there. He turned to Hermione.

“Granger, I think you are past your bedtime.”

She frowned, there was still a while till the ball ended. “But—“

Snape’s eyes flared. “Would you like me to tell Professor McGonagall what her star student was doing with the champion of Durmstrang in a Beauxbatons carriage?”

The pang of pride at being called star student was lost in the sea of dread she felt at the prospect of Professor McGonagall hearing about this. She shook her head and she would’ve pulled her shawl tighter around herself, but it was no longer hanging from her body. The long pink shawl was tangled in Viktor Krum’s arm and chest

Karkaroff had finally finished scolding Viktor, whose eyes were stuck to the ground, and sent him off to bed. Fortunately for both of them, the way to Durmstrang’s ship was the same as the one to Gryffindor’s tower.

They remained quiet until they could no longer be seen by Snape or Karkaroff, then Viktor handed her the shawl.

“I am sorry, Hermio-nee. That vas embarrassing.” Somehow a laugh found its way to her lips.

“No, it’s fine. I mean— Snape saw me, us—“Viktor stared expectantly. “The night was nice. Most of it.” She assured him.

“I shouldn’t have pulled you into carriage.” He shook his head in regret. “Vas not-gentlemanly.” At that, Hermione let out a decidedly unladylike snort.

“I insisted… Why, do you regret it?”

“No,” he said immediately and Hermione had to repress a smile. His enormous hand engulfed hers and he kissed her cheek when they went their separate ways, not before thanking her for being his date. Only when she was alone she allowed herself to smile and giggle.

_What a night!_

Once she made it back to her room, she became aware of her state. Her lips were swollen and the charms she had used to straighten her hair were wearing off and Viktor certainly hadn’t helped by running his hands through it. Still, a ridiculous smile remained in her lips until she fell asleep.

-

The next morning, Hermione felt there were plenty of eyes on her. Why, she couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was because of her looks during the ball or because of Viktor.

Ron was notoriously absent from breakfast, which she found odd.

“Where is Ron?” She asked George, who was spreading jam over a toast.

“You just missed him, left after reading the Prophet.” Ron reading the Prophet, just what had been in that punch?

Harry wouldn’t meet her eyes and the twins were sporting equally mischievous glints in theirs. The reality of the situation didn’t dawn on her until Fred Weasley passed her a page of the Daily Prophet with a wicked grin. 

_Love in the air! Star-crossed lovers or a treacherous alliance?_

_Miss Hermione Grangers seems to have taken a liking for famous wizards, her latest prey, our sources report, is none other than the Hungarian Bonbon, Viktor Krum. The two were spotted embracing in a carriage in the late hours after the Yule—_

And there was a picture of a disheveled Viktor with her shawl. Hermione felt the beginning of a headache forming behind her eyelids. She turned to look at Harry, who had been too polite to comment on the news.

“I’m going to murder Rita Skeeter.” She declared calmly.

He raised his pumpkin juice in the air. “Cheers to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> First HP fic. Based on a deleted escene from GoF in which Snape is arguing with Karkaroff and stopping teenagers from making out lmao. 
> 
> Please let me know if you liked it!


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